Rachael

for more than a list:

1. I’m tired. Working tonight, on my off night. Off at 6am, home by 7am, asleep by 8am, up again by noon. But I’m seeing Neko Case tonight, so that’s good.

2. Tomorrow, also an off day, I’m working all day. Overtime.

3. Thursday I start my real work week.

4. I dream of sleep. It’s like thinking about a hot-fudge sundae. You know?

5. Clara is SMART. The other day she had emptied her Kong, so she kept throwing it at my feet, while I sat on the couch, lazy and sleepy. Then I heard crinkling. She BROUGHT me, in her mouth, the bag of Kong snacks for me to fill the toy. She didn’t eat them in the kitchen, although she could have. She brought the bag to me.

6. Also this (and I wouldn’t even write about it, knowing that no one would believe me, but Lala was with me, so I have a witness), yesterday while we sat on the back porch, we saw Clara run out of the kitchen, over the porch, and down into the yard, carrying not only a bagel in her mouth, but the plastic container of cream cheese. Both, in her mouth at the same time. I was so overcome by this that I had to hang up on my sister so I could reclaim my food and double over in laughter.

7. Tonight, before work, I had to go to a terrible HOA meeting, in which I confronted the Problem Neighbor, who is NOT an owner. I told him I knew. He backpedaled and said he WAS the owner. It just didn’t show on records. No, he was HALF owner! That was it! And it was none of my GD business, nowhere does it state that only homeowners can come to the HOME OWNER’S association meeting. Even he stuttered a little bit. I made the point that according to the tax assessor’s office, he was not the owner, and also he hadn’t paid dues in more than a year, and so therefore, NO, he was NOT part of the association. At this, he stormed out. Then the other two owners and I heaved a great sigh of relief and discussed fixing the railing, which is wobbly and dangerous.

8. Anyone know Sarah Kahn in the Bay Area? She’s the real owner, and I don’t know how to find her, since Jose said, "She doesn’t want to know about these petty problems. I’m not giving you her number." I’ve googled, and found nothing. Thought I’d ask.

9. My wife gave me the best gift of all, on this rather crappy HOA/work-filled day off: She installed an air conditioner in our bedroom window. A real cold one. I will make jingling sounds of joy when I come home this morning. She will know how much it means to me. I think she already does.

10: WATERDOG (click for big):

 

I’ve made the most amazing discovery. Actually new-dog Clara has.

Water.

I’ve always LOVED watching the water-dogs at the Albany Bulb, and I always wanted one. Badly. Harriet has short little legs and doesn’t trust them to hold her up in water, and I don’t blame her. Miss Idaho is smaller than the average football, so it behooves her to stay out of the waves, too.

When I first took Clara down to the water’s edge at Point Isabel, she only showed mild interest. She got her paws a little wet and then traipsed away.

But the other day (she’s off-leash now where it’s legal — she knows she’s part of our pack now), she was just paddling her tootsies when a fast, wet Lab roared past her and into the water, after his errant tennis ball. She followed, because she is a goer. Suddenly, she was IN the water, no ground below her feet. She went down. Came up. Froze. Paddled. Then she had it, and boy, did she.

It was like watching a kid learn to speak, but more like the kid didn’t waste time with "mama" and "dada" but went straight to "I wanna ride a bike and later kin we have a bathtub full of ice cream?"

She was SWIMMING. She was leaping, dolphin-like. Weird, really, that she can do that. She would run up and out of the water, and tell me that she had been swimming, and then race back in.

And she is so cute. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more joyous dog. Some pics, and then I’ve gotta run, ’cause I think I head Lala pulling up. She’s got two gigs today (including one at the Fillmore, tonight — wow!) and also, it’s Pride Weekend, which means today is the Dyke March, our national holiday. I’m second in line for a ride on the back of a friend’s motorcycle, so I have high hopes. Sunscreen. Must remember sunscreen. I forget it every year.

Dogs is cute.

Harriet is a brave little toaster on the sidelines.

Sometimes Harriet will show off and go a little farther in:

The new(to-us) wagon already smells like wet dog. But Harriet likes the ride:

Well, whew. It’s been busy ’round these parts, and I apologize for my absence. There are several New Things, and I’ll tell you about them, shall I?

Okay, really, there have been many new things this year. In the last seven months, I have had:
A new job.
A new house.
A new wife.
A new dog.
A new car.
A new hairstyle.

Yeah, you missed those last two, huh?

So. The car. Okay, it’s not new, but it’s new to us, and that’s something. Last week, I drove to work from Oakland to Livermore, where the temperature has been in the triple digits. My convertible is a true California convertible — no air conditioning. While on the coast that might make sense, out in the desert where I work, that sucks the big one. I left for work on Friday and sat in traffic that was. not. moving. 30 miles door to door — it usually takes 35 minutes — took almost 2 hours. I had put the top down, since that is the slightest bit cooler than leaving the black top up, so I had the added bonus of a sunburn by the time I got to work. As Lala said, it was like standing in a field in that kind of heat. No wind relief at all, and iced coffee only lasts 20 minutes or so. So I cried. Quite a lot, actually. I HATE heat. I especially hate it when I’m going to work where I’m going to sit in one place for 14 hours, all sticky and sweaty and rumpled and tired before the night even starts. (Also, when you’re not moving on the freeway, and you’re trying to listen to NPR, you are constantly subjected to people listening to their short-range iPod FM transmitters. People! Do NOT program your beloved Hootie and the Blowfish to play on 88.5, for the love of all that’s holy. I’d pick up a song for 7 feet, NPR for 10 feet, and then get some other random song for 12 more slow feet. I wanted to strangle someone.)

So I told Lala we needed a new car.

She is a good sport, and loves me, and was probably just tired of hearing me blubber, "It’s soooo h-hhh-hh-o-ttttt-ttt. Hic. Whine," so she agreed. I researched cars, priced out the new Mini convertible, and realized that I’d lost my mind. Can’t afford it. Then I priced out the new Chevy Aveo. Came close to justifying that expense, and couldn’t. Then I priced out BART/bus option, which would guarantee that I would be home on my work days from 8am until 3pm, seven hours total, including eating/sleeping/showering/dog-walking time. As it is, I’m only home for nine hours a day, but that’s just enough. So that option was out.

Then we went car shopping. Found, almost immediately, a nice little 97 Saturn wagon, 87,000 miles, for CHEAP. And I mean cheap. It totally runs great, starts most of the time on the first try. And AIR CONDITIONING! Brand new condenser and cold, cold air. I drove to work today, and I chilled myself, I had it up so high. Blessed relief.

It’s a pimpin’ ride, too. Check it out, it’s like this, but in stunning beige:

Of course, I might mack it out like this:

Maybe flaming knitting needles? Whatcha think?

So that’s fun.

Also, I’ve been going gray (BIG time, probably almost 75% gray by now, at age 33), so I did a little work on that today:

And now:

It’s not a mid-life crisis — more like just plain fun, but it is kind of staggering how much change I’ve had lately. I’m just about ready to sit around and stare at the wall. Maybe I’ll run out of Things To Do and get back to writing, hey? Now there’s an idear.

That home-owners association member who is pain in the tuckus? Get this: He is NOT a home-owner. Based on something weird I’d heard briefly from another owner a year ago, I called the city assessor’s office, and they told me that sure enough, that unit is owned by a woman and has been since the month he moved in in 2004. Maybe the property is in his ex-wife’s name? Maybe. Don’t really care. The fact remains that of the four-member HOA, it is explicit in the bylaws that the HOMEOWNERS are the members, duh, no one else. He’s been shady, all the way around, and I’m done with him.

Boy, am I glad. Perfectly happy to be polite to him, but the dues on that unit have to be paid so we can finally get the roof fixed. He’s been the sticking point, the reason nothing’s been done in a year. He stalls on everything, and fights every member of the HOA, and no longer will he be able to. Yay! He won’t even be able to go to the meetings! Triple yay!

There is just the smallest part of me that feels guilty about being this happy. But I’m ignoring it. Yep. S’cool.

After that last whingey post? Where I whined about being lazzzy (you should be grateful you can’t hear me, really. Poor Lala) and tirrred ad nauseum? Then, strangely enough, I did all the things I didn’t want to do. Just did them. I felt so much better after giving myself permission to do crap-all that I got most everything done.

Then I went to Point Isabel, which is only a mile down the road from where we usually take the dogs (I thought it was in Marin, for some reason), and it turns out that it’s dog heaven. Really. SO MANY DOGS, all shapes and sizes, most off-leash (not Clara yet), all running and leaping and having fun. Also, they have a cafe with lattes and hot dogs and nice things like that, and a little shop where you can wash your dogs with nice soap. And they’re so nice. Everyone is nice there. It was as if they were all Canadian or something. And the view of the city today was so clear, the Golden Gate looking as if I could reach out and smoodge it with my finger.

Seriously nice.

   Three, with Golden Gate in the distance

    One happy Clara

    Two dogs in the car

    Two dogs in the yarn room

I am absolutely in the most anti-adult mood right now. I have a list of things to do. I usually like lists. I’m good at them. Today, not so much. I feel SO tired, and everything is making me grumpy. I have an amazing house but it needs cleaning. I have an amazing new dog and two amazing older dogs but they take energy. I am completely horrid today, and I was last night, too.

We were going to eat dinner at a friend’s in San Francisco. Now, the downtown area south of Market is one of the areas I’m comfortable with. I know where things are, I kinda know how the streets work in their crazy way. But I could NOT find 11th and Bryant last night. I was picking Lala up at the gym, and I just couldn’t find it. Poor thing. She must have known that she was in for a night when she called me to see where I was (I’d been searching and getting lost for 20 minutes by then),
Phone rings. I answer, "So LOST! 20 minutes! Around and around! South Van Ness! AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHCKKKKK."

I know *I* always love hearing that even before hello.

And the mood has stuck.

Now, I’m good at taking care of myself. Very good at it. I’m the first to tell myself to take it easy. I love to plan a pajama day. Taking one today, unplanned, feels very, well,  just lazy.

Hah! I got it! That’s what I feel. I don’t feel like I’m taking care of myself, I just feel lazy, which is a Bad Feeling. So I’m going to actively change this all around. While I still have the clothes on, I’ll take the dogs out for a long walk (Clara didn’t cry in her crate last night, and I promised if she was good she’d get a good long romp). Then I’ll come home, take a bath in the daytime, put on pj’s and keep them on. And eat ice cream. Tomorrow I will do laundry and pay bills and make icky phone calls, but Not Today.

Yep.

Thank you for witnessing my little pep talk. If I thought too much about it, I’d be embarrassed. So I won’t. Mwah.